08-03-2018, 04:06 PM
The motion sensor lights were still on, but during the fight the metal shutters were broken and swinging limply about, making the light in the room come and go, as if clouds were racing by overhead. Patches of grey and white light shifted uneasily around one another across the shredded plasterwork, scabby walls and terrible, debris ruined floor. Halfway down the hallway near the exit, Lih stood alone, clearly upset, his partner’s yells behind him echoed uncomfortably in his mind.
Chilled by Costa’s scream, Lih tensed but kept his aim steady, sweeping. He’d seen something in the shadows. Something skittered through his periphery scope beside him. Sudden movement...
The cannibal Lih shot got up and started to shudder. Lih thought for a moment he had burst the man open behind his bloody mask, but then he realized the man was sniggering. A sneer.
Lih hesitated for a second. This man, this creature, had an air about him, a fire that seemed to blaze with unnatural power, something that said he was more than just dangerous. Dangerous was too small a word to contain him, as if he just now barely regained control over his rippled flesh and feral anger, something Lih didn’t want to see again. The man made direct and immediate eye contact without flinching. His eyes were open, slots of yelled irises and small, black pupils staring filmily out of the bloody face; his eyes were staring right at Lih. His staring eyes seemed to loom at Lih in the phosphor-white glow of the room. Lih could see—
Nothing. There was nothing to see!
Lih remembered his breathing and his visual checking.
He looked around as he withdrew, stepped back and panned his weapon around.
“What in the name of Light are you?” Lih spat out an oath.
Then he let out an exclamation of horror, and recoiled. Near at hand, Costa had crumpled in the blood stained dust around him, his scalp a bloody flap as if savaged with a razor, only the big thing attacking Costa had closed his jaws around the meat of his ear and worried like a scavenger loose in the enveloping pool of blood. The poor bastard. He was striking in a CCDPD-recruiting-poster kind of way: angular chin, high cheekbones and eyes that radiated trust and courage. Lih wondered if Costa could ever smile that easy, disarming smile which had won Lih over.
That was when the enemy close to him had left the prone Costa’s body. Both men ran at him. Sly and well-coordinated, the two monsters slipped into the shadows and ruined rubble of the tiled floor. Lih watched them for a moment, admiring the cannibals’ discipline and use of what cover there was. They moved silently around the flank and pounce on Lih, the shooter who covered the doorway.
Lih watched and waited. He waited until the bulky, broad man with receding hair and a black goatee on his boxer’s jaw had drawn in close and entered a very reliable range. Then he shot him through the left eye. The eye of a beast, torn open and oozing, as Lih’s shot bored deep, penetrated to the brain, and set it toppling backward to its death. Lih let him fall.
He waited for the enemy to stir, but there was no movement. His round had hit the man square in the eye, the face with such force that it cannoned his body back into Costa. Their heads stuck hard with a crack, and they both stayed down.
A second late, dazed and unable to move from shock, Lih saw the other, short man -- he had a thin face and even thinner mouth --coming to a halt at hearing the shot, and, now forewarned, snuck around to get the drop on the lone cop.
The man kicked Lih’s legs out from under him, and the slender officer fell with a loud curse, his hand pistol flew off with the effort. He struck at Lih, who felt sharp knuckles batter at his ribcage. He rolled the way Costa had taught him when they practiced hand-to-hand in training. He broke free and planted his fist in the other man’s face. The cannibal lurched backwards, blood and mucus spraying from his broken nose. The man sputtered and pulled out a long, narrow blade.
“The fuck-?” Lih sprang up as the man with the sword came at him. The agile cop dipped to one side, caught the man’s wrist, and broke it. Taking hold of the long blade, he slid it across the man’s throat in a single, unsentimental sweep. Arterial blood squirted out and covered him in massive quantities.
He dropped the twitching corpse and slammed the sword down between the shoulder of the gasping man. Impaled on his weapon, the man fell on his face.
Gods above! Lih had killed the monsters. This thought alone contented him. He felt as if he had passed some advanced test. Not only had he tasted battle and killed them both, but he had slain the most dreaded of enemies.
Then Lih remembered, and pushed his way through the huddle of fallen enemy and civilian bodies, ignoring the slick, hot pain in his left leg; the damp warmth around the side of his fatigue breeches and the side of his body.
Costa lay on the tiles, bleeding out from a ghastly wound on his face. Lih knelt in the blood pooling around the enemy that he’d killed, and cradled the injured cop’s head, checking Costa’s vitals with his lens scan.
He was still alive.
Lih had dropped to his knees beside his partner, loosening the armor plates around his throat, his chest, and binding the bloody wounds. He worked fast, with a military man’s practiced skill, struggling to stop the man’s life from leaking away. He threw aside three or four field dressing packs as they became saturated with blood. The sodden bundles of medical packing splatted into the pond of blood on the floor and pattered fat drops up the wall.
Costa made a gurgling noise. Blood bubbled around his drawn lips.
His hands red and wet, Lih looked up at Costa and shook his head.
“Be calm, my friend,” he replied with a sad smile, "We need to move.”
Very slowly, he let the man’s head rest back onto the tiled floor.
Lih looked up at the ceiling, and ran his gaze calmly along the walls.
There! He found a hiding place for them.
Lih reached up and pulled the latch wide, uncoupled the bar, inserted it into the inner socket, and heaved on it again. The hatch seals released. The stink was incredible. But it was safe here in case there were more outside. He imagined others, scrawny shadows in the night, drawn in by the whine of their CCD auto-pistols, smelling the fresh blood and bodies, like vermin scavengers. He shook his head in disbelief and turned away; he set off to investigate.
Lih went in first. It was black as pitch. With Costa behind him on a temporary sling across his back, Lih slowly picked his way inside, carrying Costa into the cellar-hatch, imagining small horrors before his night vision flickered on. No fireman carry for Costa-- not with his dwindling strength and current state of exhaustion. The first time he’d had to fight for his life like so...
He sat down beside Costa and leaned back against back of the cellar.
Sitting there, in the tight dark walled space, covered in blood and smelling of raw sewage, he felt a strong, unbidden sense of the divine, stronger than he’d ever known in worship, or daily blessing, or even during sermons. For a moment or two in that desolate place, Lih had an oddly intense feeling that She was watching over him. Perhaps it was fate, thought Lih.
The link pipped. They could hear a thin, crackled voice in their jeweled earpieces. “-okay? I repeat, section five, signal back. Costa? Lih? Signal—“
… the channel went dead. But the locator on Lih’s wallet sent out a strong beam, a tracker linked to the station.
“That was Mike,” said Lih. “Shit, that was Mikhail.”
He sent over, “Mike? It’s Lih. Are the medics with you still?”
There was a long pause, then, the link came back to life, stronger signal this time “Yes.”
“Fuck’s sake, Mike. Send a cab… it’s Costa… but watch how you go,” he advised, in a clipped accent “we’ve smoked two aggressors here but there are corpses and could attract more."
Edited by Lih, Yesterday, 4:23 PM.
Chilled by Costa’s scream, Lih tensed but kept his aim steady, sweeping. He’d seen something in the shadows. Something skittered through his periphery scope beside him. Sudden movement...
The cannibal Lih shot got up and started to shudder. Lih thought for a moment he had burst the man open behind his bloody mask, but then he realized the man was sniggering. A sneer.
Lih hesitated for a second. This man, this creature, had an air about him, a fire that seemed to blaze with unnatural power, something that said he was more than just dangerous. Dangerous was too small a word to contain him, as if he just now barely regained control over his rippled flesh and feral anger, something Lih didn’t want to see again. The man made direct and immediate eye contact without flinching. His eyes were open, slots of yelled irises and small, black pupils staring filmily out of the bloody face; his eyes were staring right at Lih. His staring eyes seemed to loom at Lih in the phosphor-white glow of the room. Lih could see—
Nothing. There was nothing to see!
Lih remembered his breathing and his visual checking.
He looked around as he withdrew, stepped back and panned his weapon around.
“What in the name of Light are you?” Lih spat out an oath.
Then he let out an exclamation of horror, and recoiled. Near at hand, Costa had crumpled in the blood stained dust around him, his scalp a bloody flap as if savaged with a razor, only the big thing attacking Costa had closed his jaws around the meat of his ear and worried like a scavenger loose in the enveloping pool of blood. The poor bastard. He was striking in a CCDPD-recruiting-poster kind of way: angular chin, high cheekbones and eyes that radiated trust and courage. Lih wondered if Costa could ever smile that easy, disarming smile which had won Lih over.
That was when the enemy close to him had left the prone Costa’s body. Both men ran at him. Sly and well-coordinated, the two monsters slipped into the shadows and ruined rubble of the tiled floor. Lih watched them for a moment, admiring the cannibals’ discipline and use of what cover there was. They moved silently around the flank and pounce on Lih, the shooter who covered the doorway.
Lih watched and waited. He waited until the bulky, broad man with receding hair and a black goatee on his boxer’s jaw had drawn in close and entered a very reliable range. Then he shot him through the left eye. The eye of a beast, torn open and oozing, as Lih’s shot bored deep, penetrated to the brain, and set it toppling backward to its death. Lih let him fall.
He waited for the enemy to stir, but there was no movement. His round had hit the man square in the eye, the face with such force that it cannoned his body back into Costa. Their heads stuck hard with a crack, and they both stayed down.
A second late, dazed and unable to move from shock, Lih saw the other, short man -- he had a thin face and even thinner mouth --coming to a halt at hearing the shot, and, now forewarned, snuck around to get the drop on the lone cop.
The man kicked Lih’s legs out from under him, and the slender officer fell with a loud curse, his hand pistol flew off with the effort. He struck at Lih, who felt sharp knuckles batter at his ribcage. He rolled the way Costa had taught him when they practiced hand-to-hand in training. He broke free and planted his fist in the other man’s face. The cannibal lurched backwards, blood and mucus spraying from his broken nose. The man sputtered and pulled out a long, narrow blade.
“The fuck-?” Lih sprang up as the man with the sword came at him. The agile cop dipped to one side, caught the man’s wrist, and broke it. Taking hold of the long blade, he slid it across the man’s throat in a single, unsentimental sweep. Arterial blood squirted out and covered him in massive quantities.
He dropped the twitching corpse and slammed the sword down between the shoulder of the gasping man. Impaled on his weapon, the man fell on his face.
Gods above! Lih had killed the monsters. This thought alone contented him. He felt as if he had passed some advanced test. Not only had he tasted battle and killed them both, but he had slain the most dreaded of enemies.
Then Lih remembered, and pushed his way through the huddle of fallen enemy and civilian bodies, ignoring the slick, hot pain in his left leg; the damp warmth around the side of his fatigue breeches and the side of his body.
Costa lay on the tiles, bleeding out from a ghastly wound on his face. Lih knelt in the blood pooling around the enemy that he’d killed, and cradled the injured cop’s head, checking Costa’s vitals with his lens scan.
He was still alive.
Lih had dropped to his knees beside his partner, loosening the armor plates around his throat, his chest, and binding the bloody wounds. He worked fast, with a military man’s practiced skill, struggling to stop the man’s life from leaking away. He threw aside three or four field dressing packs as they became saturated with blood. The sodden bundles of medical packing splatted into the pond of blood on the floor and pattered fat drops up the wall.
Costa made a gurgling noise. Blood bubbled around his drawn lips.
His hands red and wet, Lih looked up at Costa and shook his head.
“Be calm, my friend,” he replied with a sad smile, "We need to move.”
Very slowly, he let the man’s head rest back onto the tiled floor.
Lih looked up at the ceiling, and ran his gaze calmly along the walls.
There! He found a hiding place for them.
Lih reached up and pulled the latch wide, uncoupled the bar, inserted it into the inner socket, and heaved on it again. The hatch seals released. The stink was incredible. But it was safe here in case there were more outside. He imagined others, scrawny shadows in the night, drawn in by the whine of their CCD auto-pistols, smelling the fresh blood and bodies, like vermin scavengers. He shook his head in disbelief and turned away; he set off to investigate.
Lih went in first. It was black as pitch. With Costa behind him on a temporary sling across his back, Lih slowly picked his way inside, carrying Costa into the cellar-hatch, imagining small horrors before his night vision flickered on. No fireman carry for Costa-- not with his dwindling strength and current state of exhaustion. The first time he’d had to fight for his life like so...
He sat down beside Costa and leaned back against back of the cellar.
Sitting there, in the tight dark walled space, covered in blood and smelling of raw sewage, he felt a strong, unbidden sense of the divine, stronger than he’d ever known in worship, or daily blessing, or even during sermons. For a moment or two in that desolate place, Lih had an oddly intense feeling that She was watching over him. Perhaps it was fate, thought Lih.
The link pipped. They could hear a thin, crackled voice in their jeweled earpieces. “-okay? I repeat, section five, signal back. Costa? Lih? Signal—“
… the channel went dead. But the locator on Lih’s wallet sent out a strong beam, a tracker linked to the station.
“That was Mike,” said Lih. “Shit, that was Mikhail.”
He sent over, “Mike? It’s Lih. Are the medics with you still?”
There was a long pause, then, the link came back to life, stronger signal this time “Yes.”
“Fuck’s sake, Mike. Send a cab… it’s Costa… but watch how you go,” he advised, in a clipped accent “we’ve smoked two aggressors here but there are corpses and could attract more."
Edited by Lih, Yesterday, 4:23 PM.
Viktor Lih
Officer of CCDPD
Officer of CCDPD